Sunday, September 13, 2009

I slowed down as I approached the light, moving over towards the right hand lane.

"Oh, there is Uncle Pat." Lauren said and she pointed to a group of riders on their motorcycles in the left turn lane.

Lauren's Uncle Pat, one of the nicest and funniest guys, is a motorcycle enthusiast and he was out riding his motorcycle with other bikers on a beautiful day. He rode his cycle between two other guys who looked and dressed the part of a "biker". The guy closest to our van was big. Real big. His arms were huge and he had the toughest handlebar moustache I have ever seen. He looked like a bigger version of the dad from Orange County Choppers. He was scary.

I pulled the mini-van along side and a bit ahead of the idling bikers who were waiting to make a left in the left turn lane. I stopped just ahead of the bikes so they were at my driver's side rear fender. I rolled down my window hoping to get Uncle Pat's attention. I kind of stuck my head out and hoped Pat would see me. He did not. I was going to wave but then I thought I would be a smart ass and yell something. I did not want to hold up traffic so I kept checking my mirrors and the traffic signal.

The guy, the scary guy, who was closest to my van, saw me craning my neck, trying to get their attention and he pulled up real close to my window. I, of course, did not see him edge up to my window because I just looked up to make sure the light did not change. I turned my head out the window and yelled, "Are you trying to look like a tough guy!?" Right. Into the scary guy's. Face.

I think I may have peed a little bit. I could see the look of horror on my face in the reflective surface on his dark sunglasses. That is how close he was to my window.